


Second Chances

by somebodywakeuphicks



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Development of Hopper and El's relationship, Drug Use, F/M, Hopper's perspective, How Joyce and Bob start dating, In between season 1 and 2, Jopper, Pining but refusal to admit feelings, Will's doctor appointments, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 18:12:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14982749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebodywakeuphicks/pseuds/somebodywakeuphicks
Summary: Hopper's story between Season 1 and Season 2. This fic involves Hopper wrestling with drug use, becoming a father figure to El, worrying about Will's declining health, and his growing feelings for Joyce.





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> For awhile now, I've been really interested in what happened between Season 1 and Season 2. In particular, with my favorite character, Hopper. This is my take on what might've happened during the year we don't know about. Instead of breaking it up into short chapters, I decided to make it a large one shot.
> 
> I wrote a lot of this while on vacation in Colorado for Comic Con, my second time meeting David Harbour. Ha. Will be attending Stranger Con in Chicago next weekend. I promise I do have a real life, but I'm so in love with this show and fandom that it's pretty much my biggest hobby outside work, school, and family/friends. I know there are still a few of us Jopper writers going strong. ;) Really died down a few months after S2.

El killed the demogorgon. That, they all knew. She may have killed herself, too, but most of them refused to believe it. Unfortunately, or perhaps, fortunately, no one knew where, or if, the girl was. Jim Hopper, in particular, needed to believe she outsmarted the Bad Men and found herself a nice, safe hiding place. Whether her disappearance was his fault or not, he'd been the one to lead Brenner to her. "I had no other choice," he'd have argued if someone questioned him. His conscience wouldn't let him live it down, however. To appease his guilt, Jim made a wooden box, placing food inside and leaving it for El in the woods. He had no idea how she’d find it, but he didn’t know the extent of her powers, and he figured it was worth a shot.

After the monster tore Joyce’s house apart, Jim offered to help fix it up. He knew she didn’t have the money or the time. She needed him. He figured it would take a weekend, tops. But when he saw the magnitude of the damage, he started going over every day after work, and if Joyce was home, she’d make him dinner or at least sit down to coffee with him. During these times, they fell into a comfortable silence, their shared experience sitting between them. Other times, they hashed everything out, or Jim listened as Joyce vented.

After two weeks, Jim had fixed most everything that needed it. Joyce told him it looked even better than before. “Stay for some drinks,” she said. “To celebrate.”

It was late. The boys had gone to bed, and Jim and Joyce sat at the kitchen table, sharing cigarettes. “I—I know it’s dead. I just worry it’s going to come back, or there will be more, or—” Joyce shook her head, and Jim noticed her hand trembling as she held the cigarette between her two fingers.

“Hey. Have I told you how impressed with you I am?” Jim asked.

Joyce brushed him off. “Please.”

“No, really. How many mothers would have done what you did?”

“I would hope all of them.”

“No. Most would’ve seen the body and accepted it. You didn’t. You could’ve let me go in the Upside Down and get Will myself, but your stubborn ass had to come along for the ride.”

Joyce choked out a laugh.

Jim looked at his watch. "It’s late. I should probably head home.”

“Oh. Right, of course,” Joyce said, putting out her cigarette. She stood with Jim. “Again, thanks for everything. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have my boy, and I’d still have a hole in the front of the house.”

Jim wrapped his arm around her, squeezing. “Anytime.”

It felt strange going home after work the next day instead of to Joyce’s, but he wanted to give her space. If she needed him, she’d let him know. And it didn’t take long before she called. “It feels weird without you here,” she said. “Come over?” And he did.

“I can’t sleep,” she confessed. “I keep seeing that creature in my dreams. I worry about El. What’re those sleeping pills you take?”

“No!” Jim said sharply enough to make her gasp. “Sorry, but no. They’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

“I just need something—” She put her hand on Jim’s arm, and he recoiled. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing. That’s not why I’m here, Joyce.”

“Not why you’re here? Oh, did you think—” She let out a laugh. “Hop, I know that you’ve been getting around, but that’s not—”

“No, of course not,” Jim said. “We’re just friends.”

“Just friends,” Joyce agreed.

Joyce asked Jim to stay the night to help her sleep, and he reluctantly agreed. “What about the boys?” he asked. “Won’t they think it’s weird?”

“Will and Jonathan are staying the night at Dustin’s.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Jonathan?”

Joyce glanced off to the side, crossing her arms. “Yeah. I, um, I kind of insisted on it. Having a hard time letting Will off by himself, you know? This was our compromise to letting him have a sleepover.”

Jim chuckled. “I see. Jonathan’s gotta be happy about that one.”

Joyce huffed. “I just—”

“I know, Joyce. I’m just teasing you,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder briefly.

When they climbed in bed a little while later, Jim stayed so far over to his side, he could feel the edge of the mattress. He fluffed his pillow and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Joyce asked.

“Nothing,” Jim said. “Just thinking about stuff.”

“I get it. Hey, you don’t have to stay all the way over there. I’m not going to bite.”

“I know. I just—I don’t want you to think I’m trying something. I know my reputation, but I have no intention of coming on to you.”

“I know, Hop. Come here.”

He slid over next to Joyce and carefully placed an arm over her, eventually relaxing. He laid close enough to smell her hair, and he didn’t know what shampoo she used or anything like that, but it smelled good. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered when the hell he planned on letting himself know that he had feelings for Joyce. And not just pent-up sexual feelings. No, these feelings were much more Diane-like. One thing he did know: It scared the absolute shit out of him.

Joyce invited Jim over for Christmas, but he declined, telling her he’d already agreed to a company party. He didn’t lie, exactly. Flo had planned a party at the station on Christmas Eve, but Jim also wanted to be alone on Christmas Day. That day, he planned to start weaning himself from Tuinal, and having tried and failed before, he knew it would be a bumpy ride. But he’d thought a lot about his life, how close he and Joyce had gotten, and he wanted to ask her out. Not just for sex, but for real. However, before he did that, he knew he had to get clean.

Jim stopped at the station briefly on Christmas Eve, collecting some food for a tupperware container. He made a joke about only coming for the food before heading back out into the snowy night. On the way home, he stopped by his box in the woods, placing the tupperware, along with Eggos, inside. He’d been doing it every day without fail for the last month, and every day, the food disappeared. He hoped it was El, but he wasn’t sure, and he never saw who or what took the food. As he headed back to his Blazer, ready to go spend a Christmas alone thinking about his daughter, he heard a twig snap behind him. When he turned around, El stared right back at him.

***

“My granddad used to live here. A long time ago. We mainly just use it for storage, now,” Jim told El, as he walked her inside the cabin he’d inherited. She looked around, examining the dusty furniture and cobwebs. “So, uh, what do ya think? It’s a work in progress, but…” Jim swung at a few cobwebs above his head. “It takes a little imagination, and uh, once you fix it up, it’s gonna be nice. Real nice. This is your new home.”

“Home,” El said, a smile quirking on her lips.

The pair spent the rest of the day cleaning. As they cleared off tabletops and carried boxes into the cellar, Jim came across his grandfather’s old record player and several records. Flipping through, he found Jim Croce and turned to El, face beaming. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah. All right, this—this is music.” He put the record on and El’s eyes grew wide as the music started. Jim snapped his fingers, shaking his hips, and he didn’t know what possessed him to do it. He’d only act that silly with Sara, but somehow, El introduced the crack in his walls that triggered the crumbling process. 

Jim shopped for groceries and picked up a tv, and they continued cleaning and installing locks and trip wires into the early evening. He established a list of rules, reading them off to El.

  1. Always keep the curtains drawn.
  2. Only open the door if you hear my secret knock.
  3. Never go outside alone, especially not in daylight.



He called them the _Don’t Be Stupid Rules_. That night, Jim made El a hot dog with macaroni and cheese and peas. They sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, and Jim smiled. “Looks a lot better in here, huh?”

“Better,” El said.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to pick up some books from the library, and we can start doing some schoolwork. I’ll also get you some clothes.”

“Schoolwork?” El asked.

“Yeah, like math, reading, writing, spelling, vocab—hey, let’s do a word of the day. I’ll teach you a new vocabulary word every day that I’m here.”

“What is voca—vocabulary?”

“The words a person uses in speaking and writing. Today’s word of the day can be vocabulary. And now you know what it means.”

El nodded. “Stay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Oh. Uh, sometimes. But I also have work and my trailer that I live in…I’ll try to be here as much as I can, though.”

El smiled. 

“Speaking of, this week, I’ll stay here every night, but then I’ve gotta be gone for about a week.”

“Gone?”

“Yeah, I have something important to take care of. I’ll be back. I promise.” Jim didn’t want El to see him as he detoxed. He didn’t even want to see himself.

Jim spent the next week going to the cabin after work and teaching El how to make meals, wash dishes, do laundry, and other household chores. They spent time reading, writing, and completing math problems. He didn’t know what kind of clothes to buy a twelve-year-old girl, so he purchased jeans, overalls, flannel, and t-shirts from Family, Farm & Home. She may have wrinkled her nose at them, but Jim just shrugged. “We can go through the Sears catalogue sometime, and you can circle what you like.”

At the end of the week, Jim figured El could use the stove and wood burning furnace without setting the place on fire.

“I’ll be back in one week. Just use the ham radio if you need to get ahold of me. I promise I’ll answer,” he said. “You think you can handle this?”

She nodded firmly. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He ruffled her hair and smiled.

***

Jim stood at the toilet of his trailer, Tuinal bottle in hand. He’d attempted going off his meds before, but couldn’t hack it, refilling the prescription two days later. This time, he knew he had to follow through. El needed him. Taking a deep breath, he dumped the contents of the container into the bowl, flushing them. He decided to get a good night’s rest, because if the last time told him anything, he wouldn’t be sleeping well come the next day.

When Jim woke the following morning, he felt unusually calm, but sure enough, once mid-day rolled around, his heartbeat picked up and the sweating began. Any other day, he would’ve popped a blue tip, but not that day. He settled himself on the couch with a large glass of water and started flipping the channels.

Later that evening, Jim paced his trailer, sweat dripping off his body, collecting in his armpits and leaving a damp trail down the back of his shirt. The world around him spun, and his heart slammed against his chest. As the top of his head tingled, his vision grew dim and spotted, and he ran to the bathroom with just enough time to empty the contents of his lunch into the toilet. “Fuck,” he said when he finished. He rested his head against the cool of the bathroom floor, and he must’ve dozed off, but the nausea woke him shortly thereafter.

On the way back to his couch, Jim grabbed a piece of paper, pen, and envelope. After sitting, he began to write.

_Dear Joyce,_

_If you get this letter, it’s because I’m gone. Please know that I tried to get off of Tuinal, but something went wrong, and I didn’t make it. Promise me now that no matter how bad things get, you will never go on this drug or anything like it. Please promise me that, Joyce. It’s not worth it._

_Do not show this letter to anyone. You should probably burn it after you are done reading it. I found El a couple weeks ago, and I’ve been hiding her in my grandfather’s cabin. You are the only person I can trust, so I need you to take over caring for her. Don’t tell the boys. Don’t tell anyone. She is in danger, and the more people that know about her, the greater the chance of someone finding her._

_I know you’ll figure all this out. Please tell El that I’m sorry and that I cared about her very much. To you, I’m also sorry. Our friendship has meant a lot to me. Directions to the cabin and secret code are on the second page._

_Signed,_

_Jim Hopper_

The next forty-eight hours bled together into something only Sara’s death could rival. He couldn’t distinguish between fantasy and reality. In his hours of sleeplessness, Jim saw Sara. Diane. El. Joyce. Brenner. Will. Benny. Barb. Shadows of their true selves. During one particularly disturbing hallucination, Sara dashed back and forth across his trailer, giggling. “I’m hiding. Find me, Daddy.” As he stood, Sara shrieked, crying out for Diane and sobbing. When he looked down at his hands, he flexed moist, pallid claws, hanging from long limbs. He rushed to the mirror, and a petal-like head with hundreds of razor-sharp teeth stared back at him. Only he didn’t stare, because he didn’t have a face.

Jim fell to the floor, pulling his hair as he tried to catch his breath, but his chest clamped down on his heart, tightening. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He rocked back and forth. Maybe he shouldn’t have done it this way, dumping his pills straight down the toilet, but he wanted it over with.

When the phone rang a little while later, Jim knew it was Brenner. He reached for his gun, then remembered he’d left it at the office on purpose and had a fleeting thought that the Other Jim might be working against him. He stood and ripped the phone cord from the wall. “Not gonna get me,” he said in triumph.

Jim came to a little while later, vomit all over his clothes and on the floor. His head pounded and his whole body shook. He knew he needed to clean himself up, but he lacked the motivation to get up off the floor. After ten minutes of wallowing in self-pity, he forced himself up, almost passing out. Somehow, he managed to wipe up the vomit and strip, climbing into the shower and sitting at the bottom of the tub as the water rushed over him. It helped calm his anxiety and nausea just enough for the tiny reprieve he needed. He stayed under the shower head until the water ran cold.

Jim continued to have nightmares, in the event that he could sleep at all. He spent each night shaking and sweating, staring at the ceiling or attempting to watch tv. Finally, after three days and nights of hell, the worst of the symptoms began to subside. He still felt like complete shit, but at least the hallucinations and vomiting had ceased. He plugged the phone back in, then went to his ham radio, hoping El hadn’t tried to contact him when he was at his worst.

“Hey, El. It’s Hop. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a few days. I just—I couldn’t.”

The radio crackled to life. “Hopper?”

“Hey, El! How’s everything going?” Jim asked.

“Fine. I cleaned the house.”

“Have you eaten your vegetables?”

“Some.”

“That’s good. I’m gonna go. Just wanted to check in on you. Should be home at the end of the week.”

“Home.”

“Yep. Bye, kid.”

That night, Jim tossed and turned. He sat up in bed, considering calling Joyce. _She doesn’t need this in her life_ , he thought, then got up to turn on the tv in the other room. He grabbed a box of crackers and a glass of water, snacking as he sat on the couch. He really just wanted a fix. _Maybe I should refill and try tapering off instead. It’ll be easier. Safer._ “No!” he said out loud. He couldn’t do that. As much as he craved it, he couldn’t go back. _Fuck_ , he thought. He needed something to do. He stepped out onto the back deck to smoke, something he hadn’t been able to stomach for the last three days. The January air felt good against his hot skin. _I’m doing this for El. I’m doing this for El._ He repeated it to himself over and over. At that point, he wasn’t strong enough to do it for himself. Initially, he’d wanted to do it for Joyce, but even that, he could’ve talked himself out of. El was the only thing standing between Jim and the drug.

Eventually, Jim started shivering, so he headed back inside. His heart raced and his vision grew cloudy from standing, or perhaps from the cigarette, so he searched his bedroom for a book to read on the couch. Rifling through his bedside drawer, he paused, reaching in and pulling out an orange bottle. He stared at it for what seemed like forever before popping the cap and dumping two Tuinal into his hand. He must’ve forgotten about this one. _Shit._ Jim walked to the kitchen, still clutching the pills, and paced back and forth until he thought he might pass out. _Just one. I’ll just take one and flush the other._ He brought it to his mouth and slid it past his lips, but his swallowing reflexes wouldn’t cooperate. He spit it into the sink and looked at the other pill in the palm of his hand. He thought of El, waiting at the cabin for him. No father. A mother who couldn’t care for her. All the shit life handed her. She trusted him. No one trusted him. But El did. Not since Sara—

Jim threw the last pill down the drain and ran the water as hot as it would go. He picked up a glass and turned around, chucking it against the wall with a yell before sliding to the floor, head in hands.

Jim crawled his way through the week, at times prone on the floor, inching forward, but always moving. He still irritated easily, and his sleep was shot to hell, but he made it out the other side. He’d never be completely free from cravings, but after facing his demons and succeeding, he knew he didn’t have to remain tethered to Tuinal for the rest of his life. As he headed toward the door to go see El, he spotted the sealed envelope on his coffee table. _Joyce Byers_. He tore it into tiny pieces and flushed them down the toilet before shutting the front door behind him.

***

Jim tapped out the secret knock on the cabin door, and El opened it, looking him up and down. “Yeah, I know I look a little worse for the wear, kid. But I’m a lot better, now. I promise.” El didn’t respond, just let him into the cabin. “Looks nice,” Jim told her. “You haven’t just been eating Eggos and watching tv, have you?”

“Sometimes.”

“I’m gonna make us some big, juicy cheeseburgers and brownie sundaes for dessert. Gotta go get the groceries from the truck.”

“Eggo sundaes?” El asked.

Jim laughed. “Yeah, sure. Why not? Eggo sundaes. But only if you eat your dinner.”

Jim grilled a couple burgers on the charcoal grill outside while El mashed potatoes and heated broccoli on the stove. They sat down at the table together, and El poked at her burger before looking up at Jim. He took a bite of his cheeseburger and groaned, eyes rolling in the back of his head as the juices ran down his chin. “Mmm. So good.”

“You have had it before.”

“Yeah, well…I’ve been puking my guts out a lot this past week, so this tastes like the most delicious thing in the world.”

“Like Eggos.”

Jim nearly choked on his burger, smirking. “Sure. Like that.”

After dinner, Jim and El worked together to toast a couple Eggos and top them with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. They split it into bowls as they ate in front of the tv and watched E.T., the movie Jim had picked up from the video store on the way over.

“I feel like E.T.,” El said.

Jim turned to her. “Oh, yeah? How so?”

“I don’t—I don’t—I’m different.”

“You feel like you don’t belong?” Jim asked.

“Yes.”

“I think we all feel like we don’t belong from time to time. I certainly feel that way. And life hasn’t exactly been kind to either of us. It’s why we gotta stick together.”

“Stick together.” El smiled before letting her cheeks drop, lips falling into a frown. “Do I make people happy? Is it good for me to go away? Like E.T. tries to go away?”

Jim touched El’s shoulder briefly. “Hey. Of course, you make people happy. I’m happy you’re here and safe. You definitely make your group of friends happy. Especially Mike.” He shook his head, chuckling. “And E.T. is trying to go home. Your home is with those who love you. You never belonged at the lab to begin with.”

El’s eyes lit up at the mention of Mike. “When can I see him?”

“Well, El, that’s the thing. It’s best for everyone involved if you don’t see him right now. I promise I’m working on it, though, and it will be soon.”

“Soon.”

Later that night, as Jim slept, he startled awake to a knock on his door. “Yeah? What is it?” he asked, gruffer than he intended.

“Hopper?” came a small voice from outside the door.

Jim rubbed his hands down his face, then sat up, slipping his shirt back on before greeting El. “You know it’s four a.m. What’s the problem?”

“I’m bleeding.”

“Yeah, your nose bleeds sometimes. Did you have a vision or something?”

“No, not my nose. My—something else.”

“El, I don’t understand.”

“My—my underwear.” She started crying.

“Oh, Jesus.” Jim ran his hand through his hair. Sara would’ve had a few years before this took place, and he always figured Diane would talk to her. He never even considered that he’d have to have this conversation one day. “Uh, well,” he said, glancing up at the ceiling. “I don’t have anything here to help with that, so uh, can you use some toilet paper until morning?”

“Toilet paper?”

“Yeah, like, stick it in—oh, Jesus Christ.” He brought his hand up to his forehead, closing his eyes, grumbling to himself. “Just—wad it up into a ball and put it in there until morning. Or even a washcloth, I don’t care. Just so you don’t get, um, blood on your bed. Or did you already?”

“No.”

Jim sighed. “Good. Okay, so do that, and we’ll talk in the morning.” He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and closed the door to his bedroom.

This whole stand-in dad thing already had Jim on his toes.

A couple hours later, Jim got up, leaving the house before El woke. He hadn’t been able to fall back asleep, anyway. He headed to Bradley’s Big Buy, praying he wouldn’t see anyone he knew. When he got to the aisle with all the feminine products, he had no idea what to look for. Maxi pads? Tampons? What had Diane used? Did he even know? He grumbled, grabbing one of everything before glancing in his cart and realizing how crazy this all looked. He turned his head to make sure no one saw him before he sped across the store to the grocery section. He’d just been shopping, and they didn’t even need groceries, but that didn’t stop Jim from throwing bags of chips, boxes of cereal, frozen pizzas, and whatever else he could find on top of the offending objects below. A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he jumped, whirling around. “Joyce.”

“Hey, Hop,” she said, peeking into his cart. “You having a party?”

“No, I just like food, alright?”

“Okay. That’s fine. Um—”

“It’s six-thirty. What are you doing out this early?” Jim asked.

“It’s the only time I could get shopping in this week. Jeffrey quit without notice, so Donald has me covering for him while he finds a replacement. We need the money, though, so…” She looked at him. “Why are you up so early?”

“I was hungry.”

She scanned Jim’s eyes. “I know why you’re acting weird.”

His heart thumped. “You do?”

“Yeah. Because you’re avoiding me. That’s why you’re here so early. You didn’t want to run into me. Is it because we slept next to each other in my bed a few weeks ago? Because that meant nothing—”

 _Nothing?_ Jim thought, irritation rising, as much as he tried to push it away. “No, no, no, that’s not it at all,” Jim said. “I’ve just been really busy.”

“It’s been over two weeks since I’ve heard from you. Before that, you were at my house almost every day for a month. Do you know what that’s like for me? It makes me feel like I did something wrong,” Joyce said.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. You wanna know the truth?” He leaned in to whisper close to her ear. “I quit Tuinal. It was…not pretty.”

“Oh, Hop,” Joyce said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know. You should’ve told me. But that’s great. How did work take it?”

“I took vacation time and told them not to bother me.” He shook his head. “Some vacation.”

She smiled. “I wish I could say I’ve been doing better.”

“You haven’t been?” His heart dropped. He should have known, should have cared enough to ask.

Joyce looked down. “No. I can’t stop having nightmares. My anxiety’s been bad. I—I wish you were there.”

Jim lifted her chin. “Hey. I’m right here. What do you need? Anything.”

“Could you come over for dinner tonight? Maybe, um, maybe you could stay again.”

Jim cursed himself under his breath as he let the answer slip from his mouth. “I can’t.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s just that—I already have plans.”

“Oh. What plans?”

Jim thought about El and how he promised he would talk with her. About how he’d already been gone for a whole week. “Uh, well—” He didn’t want to lie to Joyce. “I promised I’d help out a friend. Another friend.”

“A lady friend?” Joyce crossed her arms over her chest.

“I guess…”

“Okay.” She moved her hands to her hips, and Jim could’ve sworn he saw her fight back tears. “I’m just—never mind.”

“Joyce, it’s not like that.”

“Not like what? A date? Why should that matter to me? It doesn’t. But I’d have hoped a good friend, which is what I thought we were, would be more important than a date.”

“I told you. It’s not a date,” Jim said, clenching his teeth.

“Whatever.” Joyce waved her hand. “I’ll talk to you later, Hopper.”

Jim dropped his head as she walked away. Would hiding El be worth it if it meant losing the person he felt the closest to?

***

“Hey, kid, you up?” Jim asked, knocking on El’s bedroom door. He heard her groan from inside. “Can I come in?” The door swung open, and El lay still in her bed, clutching her belly. Jim walked tentatively over to her, sitting on the chair next to her bed. “You okay?”

“No. Belly hurts,” El said.

“You want some medicine?” El nodded, so Jim brought her some Tylenol and a cup of water. “I think that’s normal, by the way. Having stomach pain. I, uh, brought you some things.” He left the room, bringing back a couple grocery bags filled with feminine hygiene products. He dumped them on the bed to a wide-eyed El.

“What are these?” she asked.

Jim took a deep breath. “Okay. So, some are maxi pads. Some are tampons. You use them during your…time.”

“Time?”

“Yeah. Your, uh, period.”

“Period?”

“Yes. It’s what the bleeding is called. It happens once a month.”

“ _Every_ month?”

“Yeah. It, uh, it means you’re not a little girl, anymore. You’re turning into a young woman. It’s completely normal and happens to all women. Your body’s going to go through some changes over the next several years. Other changes. Woman kind of changes. Maybe they’ve already started.”

“What other changes?” El asked.

“Um, well, you’ll start growing hair in new places and need to start wearing a bra.” Jim cringed.

“A bra?”

“Yeah, you wear it on your—” He motioned to his chest. “Under your clothes. It’s like another kind of underwear.” He paused, shifting uncomfortably. “Why don’t I get you a book? I’ll see if I can find one. It feels a little weird trying to explain all this to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a man, and you should be having this talk with a woman. Someone who’s gone through it already. Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me. I’ll see what I can scrounge up book-wise, though.”

“Scrounge?”

“Yeah, dig up. See what I can find.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do I bleed? How does it make me a woman?”

“Uh, it just means your body’s ready to carry a baby.”

El’s eyes grew wide. “A baby?”

“Yeah, but you have absolutely no reason to worry. Other stuff needs to happen for that. Stuff you don’t need to think about right now. We’ll save that talk for another day.”

El nodded.

“So,” Jim said, looking down. “Let’s look at the directions for these things.”

Twenty minutes later, Jim and El had several boxes opened, directions splayed across the bed. Jim held one up to his face. “These look the same as those over there,” he said, pointing. “Which of these sound the best to you?” El pointed to a box of pads. “Okay. You understand the directions?”

“Yes.”

“Great. So go ahead into the bathroom. If you need anything, let me know, but it seems easy enough.”

While El used the bathroom, Jim went to his room to change into his police uniform. When he stepped back out, El waited for him outside his door. “Everything okay?” he asked. She threw her arms around Jim’s middle in a hug, surprising him. “Oh, uh—”He patted her back. “It was no problem, kid.”

That evening, after he’d tucked El in bed, he left a bag outside her door. Inside, he placed some razors, deodorant, a couple of training bras, more of the pads she’d chosen, some chocolates, and a pamphlet he’d procured from the middle school. He also included a note.

_El,_

_I’m sorry I acted kind of weird this morning. This is all new to me. I hope you know you can come to me with any questions. I probably won’t know the answers, but I’ll do my best to find them. I got some stuff for you that you might find useful. A pamphlet, too, that explains what all of this stuff is for. I hope it helps._

_Hop_

***

Jim and El settled into a routine over the next couple months. He balanced acting as stand-in dad to El with living his life as Jim Hopper, a man not hiding a telekinetic teenager in the woods, which proved surprisingly hard, considering several town citizens insisted a Russian spy girl lurked around Hawkins. The news had even brought a few crazies from out of town, insisting on some sort of conspiracy. Jim did his best to deflect and hoped he wouldn’t slip up as he waited for people to get bored with the story.

This meant he stayed at the cabin some nights, and others, he slept in his own trailer. Sometimes, he stayed away for a few days at a time, and although he knew El didn’t like it, she barely complained. He always made sure to stock the freezer with extra Eggos when he knew he’d be gone.

Communication with Joyce had become sporadic at best. The hurt bled through her posture any time they did interact, and as much as Jim hated it, his situation had him tied up. Eventually, he’d be able to tell her the reason for his disappearance, but for then, he needed to remain closed off.

That was all put to the test one rainy March day, when Joyce stopped into the police station in a frenzy. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for a whole day, Hop! Where the hell have you been?” she asked, pacing his office.

Jim just shrugged. “Working?”

“No, you haven’t been. I stopped here yesterday. Flo said you were off. I called your trailer ten times, and no one answered. I even stopped over, but your car wasn’t there, and no one answered my knocks. What the fuck, Hop?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been…somewhere else.”

Joyce nodded. “I see. Well, I hope it’s the same woman and not a bunch of different ones. For your sake, of course.”

Jim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Joyce. We’ve been over this. It’s not—”

“—like that. I know. Anyway, the reason I’m here.” She turned to make sure she’d closed the door, then leaned in across Jim’s desk. “Something is wrong with Will. I—I don’t know who else to go to.”

Jim’s eyes darkened. “Wrong how?”

“He—he’s having nightmares. Visions or something. I don’t know. He’s not himself. I’m afraid to take him to the doctor, what with all the documents we had to sign. But I need to do something.” She brought a cigarette up to her mouth, trembling as she attempted to light it. Jim leaned in, lighting it for her.

“I still have nightmares,” Jim said. “I know you do. What makes you think these aren’t run of the mill bad dreams?”

“They happen when he’s awake.”

Jim’s breath caught. “What?”

“It’s like—He sees things. He doesn’t like to talk about it much, but from what I can gather, it’s stuff from the Upside Down. But he’ll freeze. And I can’t snap him out of it for like thirty seconds or however long it lasts.”

“And how often is this happening?”

“Just the one that I’ve witnessed. But when I pushed him further, he admitted it’s been happening on and off since Christmas.”

Jim nodded. “Okay. We’re going to take him to his doctor in town. See what they have to say.”

“But Hop—”

“They don’t have to know about the Upside Down part. Will got lost in the woods, remember? That’s something a regular doctor can handle.” Joyce sat, hunched over and eyes downcast, the ash of her cigarette threatening to fall. “Hey.” Jim reached over, gripping her arm, startling her attention back to his eyes. “It’s gonna be okay.”

***

Jim followed Joyce and Will into their family doctor’s examination room. “And what seems to be the trouble today?” Will’s doctor asked when she walked in.

Joyce looked at Will and nodded. “Uh, I’ve been having nightmares,” he stated.

“For how long?” the doctor asked.

“Since Christmas.”

“And what are these nightmares about?”

“I—I’m lost in the woods again. And things are after me.”

“Things?”

“Creatures.”

“Like animals?”

“Sort of,” Will said. “But not.”

“If you recall,” Joyce said, “He got lost in the woods last November and almost died. And these aren’t just nightmares. He’s having them during the day. Not while asleep. I can’t wake him from it.”

“Okay,” the doctor said, taking notes. “And how often is this happening?”

“I’ve only seen it once.” Joyce turned to Will. “How often, baby?”

“Uh, like once—once a month, maybe? It’s happened four times.”

“Okay, well, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m not an expert on the brain, but it sounds like possibly seizures, so I’m going to refer him to a neurologist. I’ll have him give you a call to set up an appointment. In the meantime, if it happens again, I want you to write everything down.”

“That’s it?” Jim asked.

“Yes. I’m trained to deal with standard illnesses, but this is something outside my expertise. I’d rather he be seen by someone who knows the brain well.”

“How long will it take to get in?”

“You’ll have to ask when he calls. My guess is a couple weeks.”

Joyce stood. “Thank you, Dr. Peters.”

“Please call if you need anything else.”

“Well, that was a wash,” Jim said as they made their way to the parking lot.

“You heard what she said, though. My insurance requires me to get referrals, anyway. We’re headed in the right direction.”

Three weeks later, Jim accompanied Joyce and Will to another doctor appointment, this time, a neurologist in Hawkins. The neurologist completed blood work, a CT scan on Will’s brain, then an EEG, asking Will to do various tasks, such as tilting his head at unusual angles or breathing rapidly. As Will attempted to hyperventilate for the doctor, Jim walked out of the room. Five minutes later, Joyce joined him in the hallway, placing her hand on his shoulder. “It’s over. He’s done with the test.” Jim nodded, following her back in the room.

“It’ll take some time to get the blood work back, but I’ve looked at both the scan and the EEG. On the scan, I looked for anything that might appear abnormal. Tumors, things like that. However, that came back normal. With the EEG, I examined Will’s brain activity and tried to activate a seizure. I was not able to do that, which doesn’t mean it’s not seizures, just that I couldn’t trigger one today.”

“Don’t seizures cause a person to fall to the ground and shake?” Joyce asked.

“Not necessarily,” the doctor answered. “There’s a certain kind, called petit mal seizures, where the brain kind of blips for up to twenty seconds. Have you ever had a heart palpitation?”

“Yes,” Joyce answered.

“It’s similar to that. It just means his neurons aren’t firing correctly.”

“So it’s seizures, then? These petit mal seizures?” Jim asked.

“I’m not sure. Several of his symptoms fall in line with a seizure diagnosis, but there are some outliers. You said his episodes last for thirty seconds?”

“About,” Joyce said. “At least the two that I’ve witnessed so far.”

“Petit mal seizures don’t usually last for more than twenty seconds. Most are ten. Will, you said you can remember these episodes?”

“Sort of. I see things happening in front of me, but I can’t hear my mom talking or see anything that she sees,” Will said.

“And that’s not typical of seizures, either,” the doctor told Joyce and Jim. “Doesn’t mean this isn’t it, but we have to keep digging.”

“So what else could it be?” Joyce asked.

“Well, it’s possible it’s not a neurological issue at all, but a psychological issue.”

“So we go see a psychiatrist, then?” Jim asked.

“You can, but I’d advise you to rule out neurology, first. I have some other tests I’d like to complete, and I’d like to see Will back in a few weeks to see if we can trigger that seizure. In the meantime, if it gets worse, let me know.”

They left with more questions than they started with.

The appointment left Jim on edge, so when he got to the cabin and El bombarded him with questions about her friends, he had to take several deep breaths. Was Will okay? Did he see Mike? How was Mike doing? Did he ask about her?

“I haven’t seen Mike in awhile, kid,” Jim said, trying not to let his impatience get the best of him.

“But you said soon. You said you are working on it.”

“And I am. You just have to be patient. Go do your schoolwork.”

“I need help!”

“Fine, just—give me a minute, okay?” Jim cracked a Schlitz and headed to the front porch for a smoke. After he finished his cigarette, he stepped back inside.

“I visit him,” El said.

“What?” Jim’s heart stopped. “I told you not to leave this house!”

“No, not like that. I visit him in my mind.”

“Oh. Like you did in the salt bath? But we don’t have the setup for that.”

“I do it with the tv.” El showed Jim how she’d figured out how to visit the Void by turning the tv to static and blindfolding herself. She’d had a lot of time to practice controlling her powers, she explained.

“And there’s no risk in this?” Jim asked. “You can’t, like, make yourself appear to him or anything?” He still didn’t quite understand how it all worked.

“No. I just see him. Hear him. He talks to me, too, but he doesn’t know I hear him.”

“Okay. As long as it stays that way. And if I feel like it’s too risky for any reason, you need to stop. Got it?”

El didn’t answer.

“I’m serious. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” El said, pouting. “I understand.”

“Good. I’m only trying to protect you, you know.”

***

Another school year ended, and Jim continued to accompany Joyce and Will to neurology appointments. After more tests and scans, they still weren’t able to activate any seizures, and nothing else definitive came up.

“I want to see another doctor,” Joyce told Jim while pacing her kitchen one mid-July day after an appointment that led them nowhere.

“A psychiatrist? But you can’t afford that,” Jim said.

Joyce shot him a dirty look. “That’s none of your business. And yes, a psychiatrist. But not just any psychiatrist.” She slammed a photocopied page on the table.

Jim picked it up, scanning it. “Where did you get this?”

“I went to the library to do my own research. It’s the top psychiatric facility in the country.”

“But it’s in Chicago. Why can’t you go to one here in town?”

“Look what answers Hawkins has given us so far. Zero. I’m sure you tried to find the best hospital for Sara.”

Jim remembered when he called hospitals all over New York, pleading to have her transferred when they’d labeled her terminal. He swallowed hard. “Yep.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jim lied. “You calling tomorrow?”

“I already did. Made a week’s worth of appointments for next month, before school starts.”

Jim sighed. “You sure?”

“Yes. And I want you to come, too.”

“I don’t know if I can, Joyce. Going to appointments with you in Hawkins is one thing—”

“Please. I can’t face this alone.” She stared at the floor. “That’s hard for me to say.”

“Yeah, you always were a real spitfire.”

“Hey!” Joyce elbowed Jim.

“What? I mean that as a compliment. Independent. Strong. Not afraid of anything.”

“But what if I am afraid?” She looked up at Hopper with those chocolate-brown eyes, and he caved.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

Joyce squeezed his hand. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

When Jim arrived back at the cabin to the other brown-eyed woman in his life, she’d already heated up two tv dinners and placed them on the table. Jim grabbed a beer and sat down across from El as they began to eat. “How was your day? Did you finish your homework?”

“Yes,” El answered after chewing

“I’m gonna check it after dinner. I also want you to pick out another book we can read together, since we finished _The Secret Garden_.

“Okay,” El said.

“So, uh, I just found out today that I’ll have to be gone for a week in August. I know you hate that, and I’m sorry.”

El frowned. “You said no more long times away.”

“I didn’t say that. I said I’d try. This is important, though. Will has to go see a doctor in another city, and I told him I’d go with him.”

El pondered this, nodding. “Will is really sick?”

“I mean, we don’t know. Something isn’t right, and we’re trying to figure it out.”

“Okay. You can go.”

“Thanks, kid. I promise I’ll stock the freezer with extra Eggos while I’m gone.”

***

After three hours in the car, Jim, Joyce, Will, and Jonathan made it to their hotel in Chicago, the cheapest Joyce could find without having to fear for their safety or worry about catching a disease. Jim insisted on paying for both rooms, much to the protests of Joyce. Jim wouldn’t hear any of it, telling her that she’d be paying an arm and a leg for the doctor, so it was the least he could do. Both rooms came with king size beds and a pullout sofa, so Joyce took one room with her boys while Jim took the other for himself.

The next day, everyone woke early to visit the hospital. The doctors introduced themselves, asking all the same questions every other doctor had already covered. They moved into talk therapy, first as a family, then only Will. They made him look at ink blotches and name the first thing that popped into his head. They did brain scans as they asked him questions. Finally, one of the doctors met with Joyce and Jim while Will and Jonathan stayed in the waiting room.

“Will seems to exhibit some residual trauma from when he got lost in the woods. His answers indicate this, and his brain showed some activity during the scan as he was asked to relive some of those events. You said he’s having nightmares, too?”

“Sometimes,” Joyce answered.

“We’d like to keep him overnight for observation if that’s all right. That way, we can scan him as he sleeps and see what we come up with.”

“I don’t know,” Joyce said. “Can we stay with him?”

“We allow one person to stay.”

“I’ll stay.” Joyce turned to Jim. “You’re okay going back to the hotel with Jonathan?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you back here tomorrow, first thing.”

“Thanks. You’re being so great about this, and I appreciate it.”

Jim and Jonathan grabbed some fast food on the way back to the hotel, and Jim called it a night early. He hated hospitals, and spending all day in one took it out of him. Lying in bed with no way to contact El, he worried. He’d stressed the importance of being extra careful about their rules and to hide if anything seemed off. She’d probably be okay, but Jim hated not knowing for sure.

The next day involved more of the same. Will’s sleep scan hadn’t shown anything out of the ordinary, so they wanted to keep him overnight once more. Jim could see the exhaustion in Joyce’s face. “Why don’t you let me stay this time?” he asked.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that—”

“I know I don’t. But you need to get some sleep.”

“I’ll stay,” Jonathan said.

“You sure, kid?” Jim asked.

“Yeah. He’d probably like that.”

“I think he would.” Jim smiled.

“I just don’t know,” Joyce said, chewing a nail.

“What’s not to know? They're in a hospital. Surrounded by doctors. With a phone.”

Joyce looked at Jim, then back at Jonathan. “Fine. But if he stays again tomorrow night, it’s me.”

When they got back to the hotel, Jim wished Joyce a goodnight and headed to his room, pulling his shirt off and flopping onto the bed with a groan. He’d just about fallen asleep when he heard a knock on his door. He forced himself up and peered through the peephole. Joyce stood on the other side, arms wrapped around herself. He opened the door and her eyes grew wide for a split second. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Then he looked down. “Oh, yeah. I was already in bed. I’ll put a shirt back on.”

“No, it’s okay. Can I come in?” Jim let her into the room and closed the door. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” she admitted. “And I understand you’re seeing someone, and I can sleep on the pullout. I just—god, I hate appearing this weak.”

“Hey,” Jim said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her arm. “You are not weak. We’ve been over this. Even the strongest person in the world will buckle under enough weight.” He smirked. “And I’m not seeing anyone. I promise. You can sleep in the bed if you want, but if you think I’m gonna put out, I’m not that easy.”

“Oh, shut up.” She smacked his arm. “That’s not why I’m here.” Jim picked his shirt up off the floor and slid it back on, climbing into bed as Joyce joined him on the other side. He flipped off the light, settling on his back, and as soon as he did, Joyce shuffled over next to him, curling in close and placing a hand on his chest. “I just need to know my boy’s okay.”

Jim laughed bitterly. “You’re talking to the wrong person, then.”

“No. I think—I think I’m talking to the right person. You understand on a level that no one else does. And I’m not trying to compare my situation to yours. I’m not. But I hope you don’t take offense that I find a certain comfort in you.”

“No, I don’t take offense to that. A little awkward, but I’m not mad or anything.”

“Awkward? Why?”

“Being the screw up’s easy. It’s when you stop being the screw up in someone’s mind that you might actually disappoint them.”

“Oh, you’re still a screw up, Hop. But a screw up I find comfort in.” They laid in silence for a couple minutes until Joyce spoke once more. “Take your shirt back off.”

“What?” Jim choked.

“I’m not going to do anything. I just find it calming, you know?” So he did, and Joyce settled herself back into the crook of his arm. “Your heart is racing.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“Okay.” Joyce ran her fingers through Jim’s bit of chest hair over and over as if it were the most casual thing in the world. She lit up every nerve ending in his body, and he both loved her and hated her for it.

“Joyce, we need to sleep.”

“Do we?”

“Yes. You’re exhausted, and we have to get up early.”

“Okay. Fine.” She closed her eyes, and Jim waited until he felt her body relax and her breathing slow before he shut his own. That night, he slept better than he had in years.

The next morning, Jim woke to find Joyce still snuggled up next to him, asleep. He leaned in and kissed her hair, immediately regretting it and feeling like a creep. Joyce stirred and turned toward him. “Morning. What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty.”

“We should get up.”

They made their way back to the hospital where the doctor informed them that Will had a nightmare, allowing them to record some useful brain activity. Joyce squeezed Jim’s hand, and he knew she regretted not being there.

The doctors all seemed to think that the nightmare proved that trauma caused Will’s episodes. “But what about what happens when he’s awake?” Joyce asked. “That’s not the same thing. All of us, we all have nightmares over what happened. But Will’s the only one having these—these visions or whatever.”

“Those could certainly be caused by trauma, as well,” a doctor explained.

“So what do we do about them?”

“We’ll spend the next three days doing talk therapy and monitoring his brain activity and vitals, in case he has another episode. On Friday, after we’ve gotten results from our tests, we’ll discuss options.”

Joyce sighed. “Does he have to stay overnight again?”

“No, we got what we needed from that.”

That evening, Jim treated the family to dinner and invited them all to his room to watch a movie. Will fell asleep before the movie ended, so they called it a night, and Jim found himself alone, desperate to call El. After an hour of tossing and turning, he heard a knock on his door, so he got up to open it. “Joyce.”

“The boys are asleep and that pullout is so uncomfortable.” Jim snickered, and Joyce hit him in the arm. “Grow up.” She climbed into bed with him once more. “Don’t worry. I’m not staying the whole night. Just for a little bit.”

“Who’s worried?”

“Would you—” She tugged at his shirt, so Jim pulled it off. “Is this weird?” she asked as she settled back into the comfort of his bare skin.

“No.” _Yes? Maybe a little_ , he thought, but didn’t dare say. “Do you do this to every man you sink your hooks into?”

Joyce chafed. “I’ve barely been out with anyone since kicking Lonnie out four years ago. Most men don’t want a crazy single mom.”

“You are not crazy, and I don't want to hear you say it again. I hate it when you call yourself that.”

“O-okay.”

“Really, though. Guy’d have to be stupid to not want you because of your boys. Total idiot.”

Joyce relaxed, running her hands through his chest hair just like she had the previous night, and he could really get used to it if it weren’t for that one glaring problem holding him back. After close to ten minutes, her hand slowed before stopping completely, a faint snore lifting from the back of her throat. He didn't want to wake her, but he knew she couldn’t stay.

“Hey,” Jim nudged Joyce. “Wake up. You should go back to your room.”

“Hm?”

“Your room. Where your boys are.”

“Right.” She stumbled out of bed, sliding her shoes back on. “See you in the morning, Hop.”

“Goodnight.”

By Friday morning, the same routine played itself out, both at the hospital and in the hotel. As they sat, waiting to speak with the doctor, Jim felt conflicted. He couldn’t wait to get back to Hawkins to check on El, but he also knew that this little dance he and Joyce had composed would have to end.

The doctor joined Joyce and Jim, sitting across from them. “Based on our findings, we think that Will is going through a number of issues due to the trauma of last fall. He’s having trouble sleeping, and we think that’s what’s causing the daytime episodes. When he gets to the point where he hasn’t had enough sleep, his brain sort of glitches, and it’s no surprise that what he sees during these episodes involve the trauma that caused the sleep disorder in the first place.”

Jim fidgeted in his seat, and Joyce grabbed his hand to still him.

“Another thing we think might be involved is something called panic disorder. It’s a very new discovery, only in the last few years. Basically, we think his lack of sleep is triggering panic attacks, which means his body reacts as if it is in danger, even though it is not. It can include things like a racing heart, shaking, sweating, or feeling unable to breathe. They’re very short in duration and unpredictable, and they can cause sleepiness or shakiness afterward, which is what you’ve indicated happens to Will.”

“So what’s the answer?” Joyce asked.

The doctor pulled out several different samples of medication. “There are two things I’d like to put him on, including a sedative to help him sleep and an anti-anxiety medication for the panic attacks. Now, I have a few options that we can go over—”

“No!” Jim said, startling both Joyce and the doctor.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re not going to put Will on any sort of drug, especially not for sleep. Come on, Joyce. Let’s go.”

“But—”

He made direct eye contact. “Joyce, listen to me. We will figure it out, but this is not the answer. Trust me on this one.”

Joyce nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Don’t you care about your son?” the doctor called out.

Jim whirled back around, pointing his index finger straight in the man’s face. “Oh, I don’t think so. You’re not gonna pull that guilt trip crap with her. If you had any idea the kind of mother she is—”

Joyce grabbed Jim’s arm and pulled, keeping him from punching the guy. “Come on, Hop. It’s not worth it. Let’s go.” Jim shoved the chair as he turned back around and walked out the door.

“So they can’t help me?” Will asked later over dinner.

“I’m sorry, baby. We’ll keep trying.” She looked at Jim, chewing her lip, and he wished he had a solution for them.

As Joyce curled up next to Jim that night, she let out a heavy sigh. “You okay?” he asked her.

“No. I was thinking, there’s this place in Boston. Another psychiatrist. Maybe—”

“If Chicago is supposed to be the best, what’s Boston going to offer?”

“I don’t know. But we’ve gotta do something.”

“Maybe we go back to the neurologist in Hawkins and ask for a referral. Maybe somewhere closer, like Indy.”

Joyce tilted her head up toward Jim. “Those pills. The ones the doctor had. Were they the same ones they put you on?”

“I don’t think so. That shit’s so strong, I doubt they’d put a kid on it. I just had a bad feeling, you know? Will’s so young. Maybe—Maybe we can figure something else out.”

A long pause ensued before Joyce spoke up again. “Hop, what is this?”

“What’s what?”

“Are we friends?”

“Joyce, of course we’re friends. What kind of question is that?”

She shrugged. “I guess I was just wondering—” A knock sounded on the door. “Shit! Put your shirt on!” she said between her teeth. She bounded out of bed and looked through the peephole. “Jonathan.” She glanced at Jim, making sure he was fully-clothed before she turned back around and opened the door.

“Mom, what are you doing in here?” Jonathan asked as he peered over Joyce’s shoulder, finding Jim on the bed, flipping channels.

“We were just processing the the week. Talking. I wanted to wait until you two fell asleep so you wouldn’t miss me.”

“Okay, fine. But you should’ve mentioned to Will and me that you’d be over here.”

“I thought it might worry him. I’m sorry. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Will’s fine. I just woke up to pee.”

“Okay. We can discuss more later.” She glanced back at Jim. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Goodnight.”

***

Jim knocked the secret knock and waited. Ten seconds later, the door popped open, and he walked into an empty cabin. “El? Where are you?”

“In here.”

Jim walked to El’s room, door cracked open. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

El had bunched herself to one side of the bed, hiding under the covers. Jim sat down on the other end. “Hm, where could El be?”

“I’m right here,” she said.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there under all those blankets.” She didn’t answer. “What’s going on, kid?”

“Too long.”

“Yeah, I know. It was too long to be away from you, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“I can’t promise that, but I’ll try my best. I brought you a surprise.” El poked her head out from under the covers as Jim left the room and came back with a box. “A puzzle. Since you finished the last one. It’s the Chicago skyline.”

El looked at him, and Jim could’ve sworn she rolled her eyes. “Skyline?”

“S-k-y, sky. L-i-n-e, line. Skyline. It’s when a bunch of buildings, usually in a big city, can be seen in a line across the sky.” He pointed to the front of the box.

“Thanks.” El tossed the box to the side. “How is Will?”

“He’s okay for now. We still don’t know what’s going on, but we’re gonna keep going to doctors and get this thing figured out.”

El’s face crumpled. “Gone again.”

“No, this’ll be local.”

“Local?” El asked.

“L-o-c-a-l. Local. Means close by.”

El nodded. “I like local.”

Jim smiled, ruffling El’s hair. “Me too, kid.”

***

“How come the only time I ever see you is when Will needs you?” Joyce asked Jim as they sat in his parked Blazer in the middle school parking lot. School had started back up, and they’d just dropped Will off after an appointment with the Hawkins neurologist.

“I told you, I’m busy. But I agreed to accompany you on these things, so it’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh, so this is just an agreement? You don’t actually want to be here?”

“Shit, Joyce. You’re twisting my words, and you know it.”

“I don’t know what to think. Sometimes, you’re so present, and others, it’s like you’ve fallen off the face of the earth. Are we ever going to talk about the hotel? Are we?”

“What about the hotel?” Jim winced as he said it.

Joyce’s eyes grew wide. “What about—fine. Fine.” She threw her hands in the air. “Just take me back to work.”

“Aren’t we going to talk about the referral?”

“Yeah, and that’s just the icing on the cake of this shitty day.”

“How do you feel about going back to Hawkins Lab?”

“How do you think I feel?” Joyce asked. “I don’t care if this doctor’s new. I don’t trust any of those people in there.”

“Brenner’s gone. This doctor is qualified to work with Will. We can be honest with him about what’s going on.”

“Yeah, well. I still don’t trust them.”

To be truthful, Jim didn’t, either, but he didn’t know what else to do. “Why don’t we go to one appointment. See what this Doctor Owens has to tell us. If you don’t feel comfortable, we leave and don’t go back.”

Joyce chewed her lip. “Fine.”

Two weeks later, in mid-September, Jim met Joyce and Will outside Hawkins National Laboratory. The atmosphere had already changed from the previous year. Before, Jim couldn’t even get past the front gate without sweet talking the guard, but this time, they let him through without any fuss. Scientists milled about, walking casually to and from their cars. Jim took a deep breath and led Joyce and Will into the building.

They’d added a receptionist. Jim knew there’d been one before, once upon a time, but after the Terry Ives incident, Brenner tightened security and disallowed visitors.

“We’re here to see Doctor Owens,” Joyce said. Jim glanced down, noticing her shaking hands.

“Will Byers?” the receptionist asked, looking at the boy, and he nodded. “Right this way.” She led them around the corner and down a hallway, knocking on an office door. A man with salt and pepper hair, early sixties, opened it. “Your ten o’clock is here, sir."

“Thank you, Lottie. Come on in, folks, and have a seat.” Joyce and Will sat in the office chairs across from the doctor’s desk. Jim leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

“How are we all today?” Dr. Owens asked. Joyce glanced at Will, but no one really answered. “Tough crowd. Well, I just want to say, first and foremost, that I’m here to do what I can to help. I know about everything that happened last year. I know Will didn’t get lost in the woods. Those responsible for what happened are gone. We have a whole new group of scientists. We’re still doing a lot of the same classified work as before, but without using kids or opening portals to new dimensions.” Owens smiled, waiting for a response, but Jim just scowled. “Okay. So, we’re going to be doing some tests over the next few months, see what we can come up with. I’ve already gone over your chart, but Will, do you think you can explain, in your words, what’s going on?”

After Will finished rehashing what’d happened in the last ten months, Owens nodded, squeezing the stress ball on his desk. “That sounds like a lot for a guy your age to go through. Any age, really.” He turned to Joyce and Jim. “I want to see him back in a month.”

“A month?” Joyce asked. “Isn’t that a bit long?”

“I want to get a good sense of what is happening, and rather than try to trigger an episode in the lab, I think it’d be best for you and Will to keep a journal and write down any episodes or sleep disturbances. As much detail as you can. Bring it with you to the next appointment. And if anything really concerning happens, you can call me earlier.”

“Will there be drugs?” Jim asked.

“Drugs?” Owens asked.

“After this is all done, will you be putting him on medication?”

“It’s not totally out of the question, but I don’t typically like to put kids on medication unless it’s absolutely necessary. Usually, it’s not,” Owens said.

Jim nodded.

“Well, it was nice meeting you folks.” Owens held out his hand to shake each of theirs. “Lottie can set up the appointment. In the meantime, keep that journal.”

“What did you think?” Jim asked as they made their way back to their cars.

“It went okay, I guess,” Joyce said.

“How do you feel about it, Will?” he asked.

“Pretty good.” He shrugged.

“Okay, then. Back in a month.”

***

“Night winds, moaning around corners and whistling through cracks, dashed snow agains the windows of the Mountain View Inn. Inside, a fire crackled in the stone fireplace. The grandfather clock, as old and tired as the inn itself, marked the passing of time with a slow _tick…tock…_ that seemed to say, “Wait…ing, wait…ing.” Jim read _Ralph S. Mouse_ aloud to El.

“What’s moaning?” El asked.

“You know, like a ghost. _Whoooo_! _Whoooo_!”

El’s eyes lit up, and her lips quirked at the corners.

“Your turn to read,” Jim said, handing her the book.

“Ev—ev—”

“Everyone.”

“Everyone in the lobby was waiting—the desk clerk, the hand—handyman, old Matt, who also car—cared—”

“Carried.”

“Carried…I don’t know the next word.”

“Sound it out,” Jim said.

“Gus—gusts—”

“Guests’”

Jim and El continued to read for the next fifteen minutes until dinnertime. Jim got out the ingredients for tuna casserole, having El read the instructions from the cookbook, do the math to measure out the ingredients, and mix them together in the pan. When she slid it in the oven and set the timer, they sat back down to play a game of cribbage.

That night, as Jim tucked El into bed, she asked again about Mike. “Work in progress,” he said. “You gotta be patient. It’ll be soon, though. You still going to see him?”

El nodded. “Yes. He wants to know I am safe.”

“I know, kid. I know. But this is what’s best in the long run. Trust me on that. I’ve gotta keep you safe. Soon enough, everyone will forget, and we’ll figure out a way for you to be a normal kid.”

“Normal,” El said, pursing her lips and glancing toward the ground.

“Yeah, I mean, you are normal. But you know what I mean. Right?”

“Yes.”

The next day, Jim got off work early, stopping into Melvald’s to pick up a few things and say hi to Joyce. He hadn’t spoken with her since the doctor appointment, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t tried to reach out. Donald manned the register, however, and Jim frowned, walking toward the small party section. There, he grabbed a package of party hats and one of balloons. After making small talk with Donald, he drove to Bradley’s Big Buy. Stepping out of his truck, he noticed Joyce’s green Pinto across the parking lot. He never missed it. Jim headed over to say hi, but something stopped him cold. Joyce wasn’t alone, and her passenger had his arm around her, pulling her in close before kissing her. Jim’s instinct told him to go over and deck the guy for making an advance on Joyce, but he quickly realized that she didn’t push him away. She kissed him back. Jim’s throat fell into his stomach where it stayed, a fluttery, sour mess he didn’t want to face. He clenched his fists, willing himself to look away and head into the store.

 _She can date whomever she damn well pleases_ , Jim told himself. He had his chance, and it’s not like he could expect her to wait around. He grabbed the things he needed, throwing them into the cart a bit more forcefully than he might otherwise. When he walked out of the store, Joyce’s car was gone.

On the way home, Jim clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Could he admit to himself that he liked Joyce? That he had feelings for her? Sure. He’d wanted to ask her out at one point, after all. However, he hadn’t quite realized the depth of his feelings until he saw that kiss, and he wanted to shove it all down and far away from where he’d have to deal with it. Instead, he put on a happy face. It was El’s birthday, and she’d officially become a teenager.

“Happy birthday!” Jim called out after she’d unlocked the door remotely. “Come out here. I wanna talk to you.”

El stepped out of her room, glowering.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m bored.”

“Not anymore. I have some surprises, but I want you to go to your room for a few minutes.”

“Then why did you make me come out?”

“Jesus, you’re not messing around with this teenager business, are you? Just shoo. Go.” So El went to her room and shut the door while Jim blew up the bag of balloons and taped them around the cabin. He went outside and came back with El’s present, hiding it. Then, he set out ingredients for dinner and dessert. Finally, he threw on his party hat and called El back out of her room.

El stopped and examined the cabin. “What is this?”

“It’s your birthday party!”

“Don’t parties have more than two people?” she asked.

“Not when we have two people as awesome as these two people.” He placed the other party hat on El’s head and led her into the kitchen. “I got your favorite frozen pizza, which I’ll put in the oven in a minute, and— _and_ —I’m gonna make us a delicious Eggo waffle birthday cake.” El smiled at that. “See, I knew I could get you in the mood. C’mon. Let’s do this.”

Jim put on a record and bumped El’s hip with his own as he started working on the cake. Slicing up strawberries, he combined them with the filling. From there, he layered Eggos, one right on top of the other, using the filling in between each waffle. Finally, he covered the entire outside with frosting and sprinkles, placing a few strawberries and thirteen candles on top for good measure.

After Jim and El shared the pizza, he showed El how to make a wish and blow out her candles. “Don’t tell what the wish is,” he said, but he already knew. He cut a large slice for each of them, topping each with ice cream and fudge. El smiled as she ate, and Jim hoped he’d made up for her lack of birthdays, even if only a little.

“I have one more surprise for you,” he said as he got up out of his seat. “It’s customary to get someone a present on their birthday, so I got you something.” He walked into the living room and came back rolling a Raleigh Super Bomber blue and purple bicycle. “I know you can’t ride it, yet, but you will. Think of it as a promise that you won’t be cooped up in here forever.” El said nothing as she stood and walked over to the bike, running her hands along the chrome frame. “This is new and apparently very cool, so you’re gonna be the envy of all your fr—” El threw her arms around Jim in a hug.

“Thank you,” she said.

“No problem, kid. I just wanna make it a good birthday for you. Did I succeed at all?” Jim asked.

“Yes. It was good.” She thought for a moment, then looked back up at Jim. “When is your birthday?”

“Mine’s in January.”

El nodded. “Birthday party.”

“Sure, kid. We can do that if you want.”

Two days later, Jim stopped into Melvald’s on his lunch break. He didn’t have a particular reason to go, only that he knew he’d have to face Joyce eventually, and he didn’t want his screwed up feelings to get in the way of Will’s doctor appointment. “Hey, Joyce,” he said, nodding in her direction.

“Oh, hi, Hop. Haven’t seen you in a couple weeks.” She didn’t even sound mad, anymore. Maybe that’s what he deserved.

“Yeah, I’ve been—”

“—busy. I know. Same.”

“How’s Will?”

“He had an episode last week. Really hard to deal with. We wrote everything down, though, just like Dr. Owens said.”

Jim’s chest ached. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did. You didn’t answer, so I figured you were too busy or whatever.”

“I’m sorry, Joyce.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like he’s your kid or anything.”

For some reason, that stung, and Jim couldn’t quite pinpoint why. “Well, don’t stop calling. I do want to be involved. Really.” They both stood there for an awkward few seconds. “So, I, uh—I heard you’re dating again?”

“Oh. Who’d you hear that from?” Joyce asked.

Jim thought quickly. “Callahan. He saw you with someone at Bradley’s the other day.”

“Yeah. Bob Newby. Remember him? Works at the—”

“—Radio Shack. Right. So, how’d that happen?”

“It’s funny, I went to Will’s school to pick him up, and Bob was there as a presenter for some science program or something. I’m not really sure. Anyway, Will was talking to him, and he and I chatted for a bit and he asked me out for coffee. So I went, and that was, oh, about two weeks ago, and here we are.”

“Here you are.”

“Yeah.” Joyce forced a smile. “Anyway, I should get back to work.”

Jim looked around. “There’s no one here.”

“You should get back to work, then.” She leaned in close. “I hear the old ladies over at the bingo hall have been swiping prizes. Better get on that.” She grinned.

Jim laughed. “I guess I better. If you need anything—anything at all—”

“Call you. I know.”

“I’m serious.”

She smiled. “Okay, Hop. I will.”

***

An asshole. Jim Hopper considered himself one as he wrapped his arm around Joyce and kissed her head, wondering if he’d have another chance with her. _Bob is dead, you asshole_ had been his exact thought. As much as he hurt for Joyce, understood her pain intimately, Jim knew they had a connection, one that didn’t disappear, even as she dated Bob. It’d only been two months since Bob’s death, but Jim well knew after Sara and Diane that no one could put a time limit on grief. It got better, but it never totally went away, and sometimes, finding comfort in someone else brought on healing.

Jim’s life was coming together, piece by piece. Dr. Owens had used his connections to produce a fraudulent birth certificate naming Jim as El’s father. She needed to hide out for several more months, but the story they’d concocted involved El’s mother passing away suddenly and Jim left to care for a daughter he didn’t know about. Based on his history, no one would have a difficult time believing that one. Jim and El had gone through a rough patch, one where they’d both made mistakes. He knew raising a teenager, especially one with her powers, would bring on many more challenges, but he wanted it. All of it. He needed to be part of a family again.

In that moment, Jim held Joyce outside the Snow Ball, feeling her turmoil deeply, while at the same time, hoping for something more between them. He hadn’t allowed himself to hope in a long time, believing it would bring the curse of the black hole. But he couldn’t describe what he had any other way.

Hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to skip all the details of S2, and do a forward jump at the end, since if you're reading this, you already know. ;)
> 
> * Side note: I've never gone off drugs, well, not this kind of drug, so I did the best I could with what I found on Google, as we all do.
> 
> * Another side note: I've included El starting her period and Hopper's dealing with it in a few of my stories now, and I promise I'm not a weirdo. Mostly. I'm just really kind of drawn to thinking through how El would deal with it, having (probably) no knowledge of the process and how Hopper would handle it. Because, given her age, it probably happened in between season 1 and 2. I also imagine it would be kind of mortifying for Hopper.
> 
> *Last side note: I'm sure you already know this, but Hopper's going off Tuinal cold turkey is not an endorsement of that choice, only what I felt his character would probably do. Same with the freaking out about Will taking medication. I realize the benefits of medication. I take it myself. But given what Hopper just went through, I imagined him kind of pushing his experiences onto Will.


End file.
